


Maybe Not a Coincidence

by grapenight



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapenight/pseuds/grapenight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan's positive his band is going to make it, even if his band mates aren't very sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Not a Coincidence

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of based off of real things, kind of not. I played with a lot of things.

Spencer came behind me and knocked my shoulder. "What are you doing? Emailing that one guy again?" 

I nodded. I wasn't really emailing him, mostly stalking his live journal, commenting relentlessly, trying to get him to check out my band, but I knew what Spencer meant. And who he meant. 

"His name's Pete Wentz, but you know that, you're just being ignorant on purpose. You know Fall Out Boy as well as I do, and if you don't, you should work on that, because someday we're going to be spending a lot of time with them," I said, and not for the first time either. I had given him and Brent this lecture many times. I don't think they ever really listened to me when I said it, but I kept telling them anyways. It was true, and when it did happen, I could get in a nice, I told you so. 

"I don't know why you bother the guy so much, he obviously doesn't like us or doesn't care enough to even listen in the first place, " Spencer, always the optimist, said. I just ignored him. Our band was going to make it some day, I was sure of it. 

We had our kinks to work out, sure, but we were still great. I might not have been the best singer, and Brent might not have been the best bassist (okay he was pretty lousy, but he was our friend and he was what we had), but the lyrics were genius, if I do say so myself, and Spencer and my playing was awesome. We had all the makings of a successful band, if only someone like Pete Wentz could give us a bit of a jumpstart. 

"Yeah, man, I mean, shouldn't we try to find our guitarist before we try anything big?" Brent asked from the couch. 

"I can play the guitar and sing at the same time, you know. It's totally do-able." I reminded him. 

Brent and Spencer both gave me skeptical looks, but the subject was dropped for the moment. Sometimes it seemed like they had no hope in out band. After Trevor left they even wanted to just give up. I got them to pull through, thankfully. Once we got just a little bit of hope, I knew they would be fully on board. Things might look a little bleak as of now, I knew that, but not for long. 

"Alright, let's practice," I said as I got off of the computer. While we're waiting for a future, practicing would hurt at all. 

 

"SPENCER, get your ass here right now and get Brent along the way! Pete Wentz actually fucking replied to me! Dude, no!" I ordered over the phone, before hanging up, I didn't even give him a chance to say anything. This was big news, heck, this was so big I could almost feel my life changing. 

I looked at his reply one more time, almost dying on the inside. 

"Not bad. Send me an email and maybe we can talk some," followed by his email address was all that it said. I was going crazy. 

Spencer and Brent came in my room soon enough. "What'd he say?" Brent asked excitedly, heading towards my computer. 

I showed them both the reply, and while they weren't quite as excited as I was, they both saw the possibilities in it. We decided that I should be the one in charge of talking to him, and I promised them yet again that I was going to make this work. 

We had already gotten pretty far, because it's not every band that get's checked out by Pete Wentz, so that's definitely a step up. 

 

A couple weeks later at practice, I finally had the news they wanted to here. "He's coming here. To Vegas. To here us play. If you two aren't already shitting yourselves, I don't why. This is our big chance." 

Spencer smiled, a full blown smile, too, which was a big thing. I knew he was completely in now. 

Brent, on the other hand, said, "Wow, I'm surprised your stalking actually worked." I'm not sure how in Brent was, it was definitely questionable. 

That night I stayed at Spencer's because I wanted to rant to him even more about how amazing this whole situation was. His mother was excited for us, too, when we told her. She might have been a little skeptical, but that was okay, I knew it was just how it was. We didn't know if Pete was going to like us enough, anyways. But just him coming all the way here was enough, it was a sign that he was definitely interested. I shared the thought with Spencer. 

"I don't know, maybe he's just coming because he thinks your hot, what if that's why?" Spencer joked. I'm pretty sure he was joking, at least, but considering the actual statement he was saying I'm almost positive he was. 

"Shut up, Spencer, be serious. I'm not hot enough for that, anyways. Really, dude, he sees something in us. What if he sees what I see? Can you imagine three years from now? What if we're actually making it? What if we're playing a show in a different state everyday, living on the road? Can you even imagine how awesome that would be? This is all almost too good to be true," I mumbled on, my words barely catching up with my thoughts. 

"Yeah, this could be it," Spencer whispered. Neither of us spoke for awhile, and I knew he was asleep. I couldn't get to sleep yet, I had to continue to dream. Maybe life would actually start working out right. 

 

On the day Pete came to see us, nothing was going right. "Come on, Brent! Why did you have to pick today to play like shit, you know what we're doing!" I barked, maybe a slight bit harsh. I wouldn't have said anything if he wasn't fucking up on the same day Pete fucking Wentz was coming to listen to us. Things were supposed to be great today. I had already woken up with a slightly sore throat, and Spencer had cut his hand the day before, making drumming painful. He promised to play through the pain though, he just wouldn't practice beforehand. I was just practicing with Brent, then, because we needed to get everything as perfect as possible. 

"Calm down, man. Fuck, there's no need to be a total psychopath," Brent grunted, before walking off. I sighed and put my face in my hands. Today was not the day for this shit. 

Spencer came from his spot in the corner of the room and sat beside me. "Ryan, dude, you need to stop worrying so much. I know today is big and all, but we're going to play how we play, and you know that. We might play the shittiest we've ever played before, it might be the best. Whatever happens, happens. And no matter what the outcome is, the world will go on. You know that." 

I nodded, knowing Spencer was right. It was nice to have him as the voice of wisdom sometimes, because I needed it. "That was a bit much, wasn't it?" I asked Spencer, talking about the Brent situation. 

"Not really. He was playing shitty, that was actually pretty called for. But you know how he is, man." 

I nodded, "Yeah, I should probably go apologize to him anyways. Having a bassist would probably be better than not having one at all. I hope so, at least." 

Brent wasn't the type of person to care much, so apologizing to him was easy. The only thing he wanted was to stop practicing, and I let him have that, as much as it hurt me. I just kept thinking about Spencer's words. 

We didn’t have much time to practice anyways, since Pete showed up not much later. In person, he was actually cooler than I thought he would be.He wasn’t stiff or stuck up at all, he was joking with us, and it felt like we were old friends instead of fans/strangers, which was certainly cool. 

"Okay, so I guess you should play now, right?" Pete said eventually. We agreed and before I knew it we were halfway through our songs. It was all one big giant blur, a mess of chords, drumbeats, and a little sweat. 

I couldn't even tell if it was a good performance or a bad one, I was that out of it. And all of the sudden it was over. Silence sat in the room, covering us like a thick blanket. It was too bad I couldn't hide in the silence. 

"So, um, what now?" Brent said. Well, someone had to say it, I guess. 

Pete rocked back on his chair, thinking. "I've got it, let's go get some food, yep, that sounds good. I'm starving." 

I looked at Spencer, communicating with our eyes. What the hell did that mean? Is it good? Bad? 

Spencer shrugged slightly. He didn't know any better than I did. I guess we could only find out by following Pete. 

"Okay, so I'm just going to tell you," Pete said, an hour later while we're eating, which he very kindly paid for. I braced myself for the disappointment. I was pretty sure I wouldn't cry. Crying in front of one of your idols isn't a good idea. "You guys are good. You have heaps of potential, like so much you're just shitting it out. But the problem is you aren't quite there." 

It was actually starting to sound good, before the but. There's always a but, isn't that a saying? Too bad this one is just the dream crushing type. He was just going to tell us to keep working and maybe a couple years from now we would be better. I couldn't wait a couple years, it's either this, now, or some real life job. I didn't get another choice. We either make it or we're done. The band hadn't discussed this matter together, but it was kind of unspoken. We couldn't waste our time climbing up a broken tree. 

Pete wasn't the type of person to do what you expect him to, though. He continued on with, "If you want to get there, I can tell you how. You might not like what I say, but it'll get you where you want. It's all a matter of how badly you want it. Do you want to know?" 

I knew my answer, but I looked at Spencer and Brent to see how they felt. Brent seemed indifferent, but Spencer almost had the same gleam in his eye that I had. We were on the same page. "Yes, we want it. Just tell us how," I answered for the three of us. 

Pete smiled, "Atta boy! Alright, so here's what needs to go down. You've got potential as a singer, I personally like your voice, but, I'm sorry to say, it's not good enough. But if you just played guitar and backing vocals, that would be perfect. The drumming's great, so is the guitar, so that's all good. The bass could be better, but it works. And your lyrics and music, all of that is perfect. Basically, you need another member. A singer, specifically. Is this all good with you?" 

I nodded, thinking through what he had said. I knew my voice wasn't good enough, that didn't come as a surprise, it didn't hurt, either. It just led me to the problem we had. "That all sounds good, but we don't have anyone for a singer. We've tried, but no one works, that's why it's just us. We're stuck with that." 

Spencer nodded. "I can't tell you how many shitty guitarists and singers we've heard. Or, even worse, the good ones that were douches." 

Pete just continued to grin. "I'm so glad your in on this, you guys are going to rock I can see it now. But if you'll take the offer, I have a friend, and he's looking for a band to be in right now. He has the voice of some fucked up angel, and he's a totally cool dude. I could tell him about you guys, and maybe you could try him out?" 

I looked at Spencer, not even bothering to consult Brent on the matter. Spencer was giving me the go ahead. "We're in, please, get him if he's willing." 

"Oh, I'll tell him a little bit about you, and I'm sure he'll go for it," Pete said with a wink. 

I was confused by that, because I feel like the wink meant something a little deeper. I didn't ask, though, because I wasn't sure if I really wanted the answer. 

A week later, I got an email from Pete. "He's definitely in. He'll come see you guys whenever works for you.His name is Brendon, by the way." 

I smiled, because everything seemed to be working out pretty well. 

 

Brendon was cool, fun, and completely nothing like I imagined. He was tiny, almost as small as I was and he had black framed glasses, with big eyes and lips. He was strange, but hilarious, and as soon as I hear his voice, I knew if he didn’t want to be in out band I would follow him around for the rest of his life just to hear him sing again. He was that good, and he was real, I couldn't believe it. He could also go from singing in ways that make my stomach try to digest itself to burping the alphabet in a minute. He was amazing. 

When he first came in, things were a bit awkward, he was a little shy, and we were a bit caught up in just staring at him. Once we got past that, things were great. He sang a couple of our songs, doing them completely differently than I had, and unrehearsed, and they still sounded so much better. He also sung other songs, and he was almost better than the originals. 

Practice was ending before I got the courage to ask what I assumed was on all of our minds. Why did I always have to be the person to do stuff like this? Anyways, I asked Brendon, "So, would you, like, maybe be up for it?" 

Brendon sat the guitar he was quietly strumming in his lap. "I'm totally in, I thought that was already known. I just thought it was up to you guys to decide if you wanted me." 

"We're desperate man, we probably would've taken you if your voice could be at least auto tuned nicely. So since you can actually sing, of course your in," Brent said, actually speaking for us for once. It was what we were all thinking, though. 

"Awesome. So we're band mates now?" Brendon asked. 

I nodded, and that was apparently that. Brendon was our singer now. We had everything we needed. We were just maybe on our way. 

I walked Brendon to the door when he was leaving, and as he opened the door he said, "Nice to meet you, then. See you at our next practice, Ryan." 

The way he said my name wasn't normal, and it caught me off guard. There was a hidden tone in his voice, and I frankly had no idea what it meant. 

I was too busy thinking that over that I didn't even get to say goodbye to him. 

 

The band, with our new lineup, doesn't even get much time to rehearse before we're signed and sent off to the studio. That's not necessarily a bad thing, because since Brendon was really fast at picking up anything musically related, we were almost ready, we just had to work a little more in the studio. 

I know I pissed Brent off in there because I was being such a perfectionist, his words, not mine. I wasn't really, it was just that was it really asking too much for him to play his parts right? In his own band? The one that he's been in forever? No, it wasn't. And maybe with Brendon's singing, I was a bit of a pain, but they were my words he was singing, I just needed to make sure he got them across correctly. This took a lot of work, and I know Brendon got pretty pissed occasionally. 

One day I went a little too far. At least I was able to admit it. I had realized it right after I had done it, I knew I had just been a total ass. Brendon was at least being the bigger person. Instead of fighting back, at saying any number of things he could have said to me, he just walked off. 

Spencer looked at me, and his look said all that I already knew. I had been a dick, I needed to make up for it. I was already following Brendon. 

"Brendon, hey, man. I don't know what exactly to say. I took that too far, really. I shouldn't have, but I didn't even think," I defended my actions. But when I saw Brendon, sitting out on the sidewalk, against the wall, looking pitiful, I knew there was no defending myself. I had fucked up. 

"Shit," I muttered. I sat down beside him. "You could punch me if you want. Um, I'd kind of prefer if you didn't break my nose or anything, but it you want to, well, go for it."   
Brendon chuckled softly. "It's okay, I'm not really the punching type. I'll probably just get a friend of mine, who's much bigger than I am, to do it. Think that would be okay?" 

"Not really," I said, not wanting to be punched. "But if it's what it takes." 

I though about areas I'd prefer to get punched in. The stomach would probably hurt, but it'd probably be nothing compare to the face, or even somewhere worse. Oh god, I hope not. 

"You know I'm kidding, right?" Brendon said. 

"Oh, yeah, totally," I said, letting out a sigh of relief. 

"When you're not being a bitch you're hilarious, you know that, Ross?" 

"I don't know, some people like it when I'm being a bitch, adds a bit of excitement." 

Brendon laid his head on my shoulder, and I wrapped an arm around him. "I'm sure." 

"I really am sorry, though," I apologized. "As soon as I said it I regretted it. Most everything I say is complete shit, anyways, just so you know." 

"Thanks for telling me that, I guess. But I'm okay, really, it's fine." Brendon replied, but I knew it really wasn't. "We don't really know very much about each other, do we? It's funny to think, when right now I'm pretty convinced my whole life has been in the studio with you guys." 

"I kind of feel the same way, it's strange. I don't know, maybe this is us starting a new life here, everything in the past is gone. This is us. But anyways, I'm still pretty sure I know you pretty well. I've seen your high school year book pictures. How do you know a person better than that?" I joked. 

"True, true. I think you might be right about the whole starting over thing. I don't mind that at all." 

If this really was a new life, Spencer was probably my brother, a really close one, not they type that hate each other. Brent would be our cousin who could sometimes be a jerk and sometimes be cool. Pete would be my father, who had an unconventional view of parenting. Maybe Patrick could be my mother, I had met him a few times, he was awesome, and he always corrected Pete when he went too crazy with us. I'm not sure what Brendon would be. My best friend? someone that knows me better than I do? Something else? I had no idea. 

 

We finished recording the record, and I was overwhelmed with the fact that I had just helped in making an album. A whole entire album. I thought about all of the albums in the world that had so much more meaning than just music. Albums that maybe changed the world. I knew ours wouldn't change the world, I wasn't silly, but it could change people, maybe lots of people. It could change people. It could make someone happy, it could give people hope. Just one little album could be so much more. And I was part of this one. 

While we were waiting for our album to come out, Pete had us on small tours to various places. It was certainly strange at first, because the first show we ever played was as a signed band. We had few experience as a band. The first time we went on stage, no one had ever heard of us. It could've gone down in flame, but the tiny bit of shyness Brendon had occasionally went away immediately. The stage changed him, threw his fears away. He charmed the pants off of the audience. Some of them still didn't care, because we were a completely unknown band that wasn't going anywhere in their eyes, but other listened. The people like that are the good ones. 

Occasionally people would recognize Brendon, which was really strange. He had never really been in a successful band, but he had been a tech a couple times for some successful bands. That was how he knew Pete. Everyone in the band circuit knew Brendon, and when we had extra time on tour, he could get us back stage for any band. It was an amazing experience. I noticed that even though Brendon knew everyone there, he never left me alone. 

We had gotten closer as the time passed. I'm not sure what it was about the two of us, but we were like puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. In places where he stuck out, where he wouldn't fit with any other piece, I had a dip in my side just for him. It was the same way with him. But we were more complex than that. The two of us together were the whole fucking puzzle. 

One night, by some swing of fate, or insomnia, Brendon and I both had problems getting to sleep. Brent and Spencer were long out, so we decided to explore the hotel we were staying in. It was one of the cool nights, where were got to stay at a crappy hotel for a night before another straight week of sleeping in the van. 

"Oh, look, a candy machine! Ryan! Buy me some skittles!" Brendon demanded. 

"Do you really think more sugar is going to help you with your sleeping problem?" I asked him, already pulling out a dollar to buy his candy. 

"You know you love me, Ross," Brendon sing songed as he grabbed the candy as it dropped down. 

"Of course," I replied. We continued walking through the hotel, occasionally annoying the single employee that was still working. Eventually we got shooed back to our room for the final time. We sat down in the small space by the door of the hotel, facing each other. 

We had somehow gotten on the topics of relationships. "She had been cheating on me, and that was the end, I guess. It sucked, then, but at the same time I had kind of see it coming. I must do something that makes me deserve it," I admitted. I had never told anyone that I thought that before, but I knew it was true. 

"I don't think you could have ever done anything to deserve that, Ryan. I personally think she was just a bitch that didn't know just what she had," Brendon said, looking me straight in the eye. 

I wasn't sure how to reply. I wasn't even sure of what was happening. But before I knew it I was sitting up on my knees in front of Brendon, leaning in to kiss him. 

He was a good kisser, hell, he was wonderful, I really need to learn how he got so good, but it was even more because it was Brendon. I had no idea I had wanted this so badly. Judging by Brendon's reaction, I wasn't the only one who wanted it. 

Soon, we had stopped kissing, and we moved to lay on Brendon's bed, both of us finally getting tired. His arm was wrapped around me, and my head was on his chest. I felt like I had made it. It didn't even matter what happened next, I had made it. 

"You taste like Skittles, you know," I said as sleep got closer.

"You taste even better than I ever imagined. Which I did. A lot," Brendon replied. 

We laughed until our laughter evened out into soft breaths.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the work of a few long hours, and a little idea. I hope you like it, because wow, I'm tired.


End file.
